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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961850">Handsome</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decoder13/pseuds/Decoder13'>Decoder13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Battle for London in the Air (Roleplay)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, fae!au, poetry?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:06:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961850</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decoder13/pseuds/Decoder13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cordelia French/Lord Thaddeus Beck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Handsome</h2></a>
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    <p>She was wary with her name<br/>before she knew why.<br/>This jigsaw puzzle<br/>her mother made out of her<br/>Before she could be<br/>Otherwise.</p><p>Her mother knew,<br/>She guesses.<br/>It was a long, winding name<br/>With half a map<br/>And no key.<br/>It took too much to share, besides<br/>She couldn’t work through it<br/>Much better than the rest.</p><p>It made her handsome.</p><p>It gave her a riddle<br/>Beneath her skin,<br/>Behind her eyes, <br/>In the dark of her lungs<br/>And her marrow.</p><p>The Folk are fond of riddles,<br/>Quick to spot them<br/>Shuttling across the loom,<br/>Eager to tangle their fingers<br/>Into the threads.</p><p>He found her handsome.</p><p>He was honey-eyed<br/>And made a kind of sense<br/>She wasn’t used to.<br/>He loved that she was hard to love,<br/>He said. It hurt her<br/>Softly, to be loved<br/>Wholly, inconceivably<br/>For the riddle of her,<br/>As if she was nothing <br/>Else.</p><p>She offered two names<br/>If he would stay,<br/>Spin words with her <br/>And music<br/>And teach her why she was right<br/>To laugh at the old<br/>Who preached caution.<br/>She was cautious,<br/>But only for her,<br/>She said. He laughed.</p><p>She found him handsome.</p><p>It was hard to hold him,<br/>Harder for her to hold him<br/>Than it was for him to hold her.<br/>But they spun words<br/>And put them to the loom,<br/>Pieced the edges of the puzzle<br/>Half-together,<br/>Pored over maps,<br/>And laughed, a little scared<br/>Of each other.</p><p>Things stung that hadn’t<br/>Once, before him.<br/>Nothing was quite sweet enough.<br/>They said she looked well, though,<br/>Better, with him.<br/>He told her that he loved<br/>That he had to trade for her -<br/>Trade scraps, but still,<br/>A trade<br/>And not a gift.</p><p>His words were almost handsome.</p><p>When they walked together,<br/>They stumbled into <br/>Brighter places, full of<br/>Empty light and apple trees.<br/>It compared to love, this<br/>Clawed, polite unravelling<br/>Of each other.<br/>She didn’t understand,<br/>Couldn’t read,<br/>Gave another name <br/>For another year.</p><p>She caught a taste of<br/>Rage, of Hope, of Wonder,<br/>Of Missing Someone, and<br/>It clung to her tongue <br/>Like it shouldn’t have.<br/>He promised he could <br/>Hate her<br/>If she ever slipped<br/>And made him.</p><p>His promises weren’t handsome.</p><p>But what else?<br/>What else was there?<br/>She was too young,<br/>And her arrogance<br/>Weighed too much.<br/>She knew she wasn’t <br/>His only,<br/>But she was His,<br/>And something of him <br/>Was hers<br/>In a way that scared her.</p><p>She traded another name<br/>And wanted faith,<br/>True faith in him <br/>Built on a stone foundation,<br/>For a fee.<br/>Instead <br/>Lies burnt in her throat<br/>White petals sometimes<br/>Tumbled from her hair,<br/>And her words <br/>hurt.</p><p>They said she looked more handsome.</p><p>She only had one name <br/>Still left to trade.<br/>He asked for it,<br/>All folded in her hand:<br/>A final knot of yarn,<br/>A missing piece, <br/>A compass,<br/>And she knew.</p><p>She saw how, without<br/>A maze for a name,<br/>He saw nothing -<br/>Nothing in her<br/>He couldn’t have already.<br/>The more she understood<br/>The more she felt<br/>Like less.</p><p>She did not feel handsome.</p><p>She could not give<br/>Another name,<br/>Could not afford to get<br/>anything he could give in return.<br/>It burnt her,<br/>Lying to him, saying that<br/>She had no more.<br/>But when she said<br/>She had no more to give<br/>Him,<br/>It did.<br/>Not.<br/>Burn.</p><p>And he was caught,<br/>His heart hooked up<br/>On thorns he strung<br/>Between her and the others.<br/>He said she’d made him<br/>Beg at every door<br/>Because she would not give,<br/>And then she left.</p><p>She couldn’t find him handsome.</p><p>She buried the name<br/>She could not give<br/>And hoped it would grow<br/>Gardens.<br/>She plucked more<br/>From meadows, poems<br/>And memory to wear <br/>until it did.</p><p>Nothing fits quite right<br/>On one with four names<br/>Out in the wild<br/>And one name<br/>Down in a grave.<br/>Things still burnt<br/>That could not burn Before.<br/>Sentiment still tasted.<br/>She still shed needles<br/>And her share of flowers.</p><p>But, finally, she almost could feel</p><p>handsome.</p>
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